


Trompe-l'œil

by crankyvamp



Category: Big Brother RPF
Genre: AJ/Lauren?, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, First Person, M/M, OMC?, Z & F eventually meet, Zach is a artist/sculpture, Zach lives in NY, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-03-23 04:03:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3753790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crankyvamp/pseuds/crankyvamp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zach Rance, a local sculpture and painter to the city of New York,NY. His life is like the ordinary, basic job just to stay alive and the passion of art. He's no one special, but that could change by the event of meeting Frankie Grande.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> hello! I know zankie fandom has had a ton of drama lately, but I found this old first person story in my room. Might as well post it, right? And I know-that first person can seem invading, but it's my preferred writing style. Also! The format may look a but weird but whatever! xo  
> (This story does stay in Zachs view and he is the main character. I do promise that Frankie will make a appearance in the next part!)

I hate sculpting, funny how I do it for a living isn't it? I brought a horse to life, a stone horse,creasing with precise detail. Specs of milk chocolate brown fill the eye, with a few strokes of hazel. The horse is painted a pale colour, a uneven tone of dirty yellow and white. 

My name is Zach,simple Zach, local sculpture to the city of New York. I'm no famous artist, not even a known one at the least, I hardly make a living off hosting a art gallery or trying to sell my pieces online. I have to work part time at a cruddy run down café just to keep a roof over my head.  
About my statement of holding a hate for sculpting, that was sort-of a fib. I didn't really hate it, but it did become rather obnoxious and buggy then and there. When I do turn annoyed, I just have to remember the beauty of bringing a piece of art alive, then I'm alright.  
Art is pretty majestic, is it not? Art lays everywhere, on my adventure to make life as a artist I taught myself to seek beauty in everything. That squashed bug that you'd find on the side of the crowded street, the fluids that ooze out of the lifeless body or the eyeballs that may have stuck out of the lids, that is beautiful. The short lived-now rotten-bug is now a work of art. Don't question me on why I view the world as a jumble of artistry, beauty, and a past of back stories, I just do. 

Fuck this horse, fuck it so much. I made a error on the tail, it's jet black tail. I did not pay attention while I dipped my brush, or attempted to, in the black, my brush ended up in my violet mix and I placed it out the tail with out knowing. I usually zone out when I become tired with painting, explaining this mishap. I breathe, don't worry, you just let it dry, then start with the black again. This horse had to be spot on and perfect, a college sent a request for me, ME, the low life almost irrelevant, Zach Rance, to sculpt them their mascot. I stared at the long detailed poster of a horse that stood infront of me. I kicked myself internally, noticing how many little details I've missed. I have to find and perfect every detail or line, even a mark, I come across, being the hyper perfectionist I am.

Today was elongated, if I had to stab a guess, it would be that I slaved and stroked layers of paint for several hours today. My ears buzzed, remembering the the blasting vibrations of music I once had playing. My fingers ached,showing certain indents and ridges to prove I was a artist that would hold a brush for hours upon hours, endlessly painting. I missed home, being crowded in a cheap rented art studio becomes strange once in a while. I'm always standing or kneeling, but, I cannot complain about being on my knees though..... I've become quite well at that. If you catch my drift.  
I'm not exactly gay, just not the straightest man. I do art for a living, can't you just smell the fruitiness lingering on me and in the air? Everybody knows I'm just a little queer, my over played 'I slice so much pussy' ego was so artificial. My younger frat Floridian self, was so embarrassing. Mr. Multiply the Amount of Muscles on my Back by Fifteen and That's How Many Pussies I've Sliced. I wish I went to art school, those raunchy immature frat mates did no help.  
I found myself in the studios door way, my bag over flowing with paint tubes and ruffled sketches, and my toes felt a breeze of air prickle them. No shoes, I was trying to leave with no foot wear. I am so out of it today. My aged Jordan's sat next to me, the tongue flapping with the laces undone, as if it was a dog hanging it's tongue out, drool forming, begging to be fed. But my shoe was the mutt, wanting my foot as food. Sighing, I shoved my bare feet into the some what rough soles of the shoes. Miniature bits and pieces of rock, leaf, food, almost anything microscopic, pressed into the curve of my feet. It didn't hurt, but the pressure from my feet pressing into the cushion with every step made it annoying. I didn't care tough, I wanted to be home. 

The door was locked when I came home. I lacked the presence of a key, but that didn't matter, I knew AJ was home and would open the door for me. Even if he didn't, I knew where the spare key hid. My shoulder was aching from the heavy weight of my bag, I really needed a new one. Well, I didn't need one, I wanted one, a bag wasn't a need. My stained dark brown bag wrinkled, bulging at spots where paint tubes and brushes were crammed in like crayons in a box. It was ugly, and had aged terribly. How could I forget the holes that formed from fabric stretching a tad too much? Besides it's flaws, I still found the beauty hidden between its negatives.  
My thoughts were wandering, and I wasn't brought back to life until AJ yanked on my fore arm. 

"You're staring again."

"Am not," I tried to protest, bringing a curved finger to my eye, nudging them to become alive.

"I opened the door several minutes ago, and all you did was stare while I repeated your name over and over, trying to gain your attention." 

A light chuckle sprouted from me,

"Ya know," I started, elbowing AJ as i maneuvered past him and proceeded to enter the apartment,

"You sound obsessed with me."

"Shut up Rance, it's just that your 'oblivious to earth' side is rather obnoxious in a way. You need to learn how to clear your fluttering thoughts."

Clear my thoughts? No, AJ. I don't want to that, never. My thoughts alone are art. 

"And don't give me your gay art excuse,"  
he stated boldly, some-what harshly, as if he was reading my mind.

At this time, I started to take in his view. I wasn't attracted to him at ALL, not even a smudge of a bit. He wasn't my type, too bland and political for my taste. He's in college to become a lawyer or some shit like that [i wouldn't know!] for damns sake, absolutely boring! He'll be stuck doing a job that is too complicated(or maybe it's only seen hard to me,) and one that lacks creativity. The low-life, and I don't even care about the fucking money income. I don't get paid much for doing what I love, but at least I'm living a good life loving what I do. 

FUCK.

My mind wandered again. I blinked, meeting the view of AJ's back, he was turned away from me, finally, he wasn't paying attention to me.

"You know, Zach," he turned around to look at me, did he have eyes in the back of his head? How did he know my eyes were digging into his back? Or did he even know, and it was all one coincidence? Zach, stop, you're making yourself paranoid. 

"Lauren is visiting tomorrow, she's bringing along a friend, a boy."

Lauren was a rather close friend of AJ 's, sometimes I'd wonder if they were dating and I just wasn't told. I have met her before, Lauren Strigari(or Strigs, she likes that.), but what I didn't know was who was this friend of hers(?), the boy.

"Do you know him?" I asked,

"Yeah, we've met a handful of times. Pretty chill, pretty gay, pretty. His name is Frankie."

"Frankie?" I questioned, as if I had heard him wrong, but AJ just nodded.

Frankie. I liked that. I REALLY liked that. I like how easily the name slurred off my tongue. I always had a passion for male names that start with a F. I could say the name Frankie forever, the movement of my tongue saying the name, and how my lips would purse a bit. I would never become tired of this name,

"Frankie," I repeated again, wanting to pronounce his name over and over, like a prayer. Fuck, not like a prayer, I'm not catholic, stupid stupid. 

"Yes, do you know a Frankie? Grande, perhaps?" AJ questioned, I must've said the name louder then expected, so he over heard me. I can't complain though, the name sounded just as pleasing on his lips. 

"No." 

Our conversation stopped there, yet I was still so curious about this boy- Frankie. Frankie Grande. Oh what could his middle name be? I can't wait to find out more to this beautiful name[and hopefully boy].


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I'd get more feedback on this! I want to continue but I'm afraid no one is enjoying this :( oh well, here is chapter 2 and it's kinda short idk  
> AND YES FRANKIE IS IN THIS!!!! Just wait for more chapters babe!<3 xoxoxooxox  
> (I didn't over look this so sorry for any errors!)

I didn't sleep well tonight, my temples throbbed with aching pain and my shoulder was sore from carrying the heavy weight of my bag. I got possibly two hours of sleep and I awoke at approximately 6:45 AM. 

I sincerely loathe working at the café. I only work the breakfast shift, and my only purpose is to pay my rent.

The need to bathe and feel soapy, warm, water cascade over my body's length was desperate right now. I muttered a curse, fuck me for not rising earlier to shower! 

The time was nearly 7, I was due to be at my shift at 7:15, 15 minutes. I could have had a quick shower now that I think of it, but then my hair would appear tousled and as moist as a mutts chaps. No body wants that, a sloppily dragged together appearance. My job didn't have a uniform rule, but then again when I arrived I had to dress in my obnoxiously red apron with my worm name tag pinned to the left of the aprons pocket. 

I had dressed myself in a pair of denim-some what-skinny-jeans and a faded light orange polo. Weather was chilly, but it wasn't jacket chilly, it was only the middle of August. Though people still considered it to be summer, it was still not Florida feather I had been used to. I miss my life in Florida, the air was always sticky and humid. It was about 55 degrees out in NY, I do have to admit that the air and faint wind felt nice, I've grown quite used to New York weather. 

Oh and, I've lived in New York since I was maybe 20, I'm approaching 24 now. Oh, and I know, I'm getting OLD. 

The ugly brown door with tearing paint filled my vision. Though I'd name it ugly, (this word sounds foreign to me ) the door was still gorgeous. I saw this door often, whenever I arrived to my job's building I faced this wooden door. It had aged poorly, besides that I could still find beauty and fulfil a completing back story between its tornness.  
Off set brown swept from my view, a subtle flash of chill smacked me in the face, and then Jerry stood tall in front of me, myself, & I. 

Jerry was(is?) my boss, and we got along decent since he wasn't too pushy as most resturant rulers tend to become.

"Zachary! It's 7:10, I thought you'd be late again!" 

"Well, I'm here now, am I not?"

"Why didn't you open the door?" 

Jerry, shut up. And shit, I didn't realise I'd just been standing and gauging awkwardly, and that it had been him who opened the door and not me. 

"I was just about to, you just caught me right before! Coincidence, I guess." I fibbed

Jerry's eyes were invading my body and stance, indulging my view. He has always had some attraction towards me that he didn't seem to have with others. I'd always find him observing my body, starting with the tips of my hair or the tips to my shoes. I was wearing white converse today, by the way. They're blinding white, the tips are quite pretty with the glare of flashing white. Oh, and sometimes Jerry comes of as flirtatious, or he'd be a little too friendly with his touching. 

"Stop starring," was all he said as he gripped my wrists and basically tossed me inside. 

Fuck, I let my thoughts take over far too much. 

"Sorry,"  
I apologise as much as a woman...

"You know me," I continued. 

Another glare down my body,  
"Indeed I do." 

My shift was over at 11:45, only the breakfast shift that I work may I remind you. My work times were starting to gain length. Jerry organised the times, I had no doubt in my mind that he'd been the one that extended my shifts time. He also asked me to work into the lunch shift(s), probably so he can keep me around longer. He probably jerks himself off to me at night.

I placed my annoying red apron with the pinned tag that had my name rubbing off of it away. It hung on a, may I mention also worn, hook that stood in a hallway that connected workers lounge and the kitchen. I hate that fucking apron, and that ugly name tag. Oh shit, ITS NOT UGLY! 

I walked home, like I always do. Usually I take the long way home, so I can see the gorgeous sky and the hurdles of people down the city. Art fills the long trail home. But today was different. I took the short route home. The Frankie boy was arriving today and I couldn't wait. I hope the man who holds the gorgeous name is just as gorgeous as he sounds.  
I fumble with the lock, and I notice Lauren's-obviously recently washed-vehicle parked in AJ and I's parking lot.

Once I opened our door, our dark forest green door, my nose thanked me. Our house smelt fresh, I smelt expensive perfume and a aroma of popped corn. The pop corn was obviously battered in butter and bathed in salt. Heels clanked, and I was rushed into the arms of Lauren. 

"Hey Zach! Nice to see you again!" 

Lauren always smelt so clean, but her large pale brown hat folded against my skin once she embraced us into a hug. 

"I'm sorry!" she yelped.  
Lauren quickly snatched her hat off and stepped back.  
I gave her a quick smile. 

"Zachary, this is Frankie, I've been wanting you two to meet!" 

Lauren dragged me to my plushed couch, yes it was my couch, I made it! You can ask AJ! 

My eyes widen a tad, the boy rose from my, MY, couch He was gorgeous. His name filled the slot, he was all I was expected.  
Oh my god, he was gorgeous. Really, really, really. He is art on legs, but aren't we all? His hair stood up, bleached with faded pink at the end. God damnit, my cock twitched looking at him. Fucking damn you Frankie, I just met you. He wore tight and white pants that hugged his thighs and crotch all too well. 

"Hello." I gulped. 

Frankie just smiled, and I realized he was checking me out too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zach decides he has a major crush. Frankie loves this kid already, he's also some form of a semi-narcissist...(who actually reads summaries????)

I hadn't spoken since my short hello. I've been gauging at the boy for the past minute or so. Boy, was he pretty. 

My thoughts were torn away as Frankie's arm stretched out to me,

"Nice to meet you," 

I stumbled a tad and folded my hand to his, shaking firmly. His fingers were short and frankly quite stubby. A chipped, sparkled, gold color coated his short nails. AJ wasn't lying about him being "gay". 

Frankie glanced at me and flashed a lopsided toothless smile, I gladly smiled back, probably looking stupid with the cheesy grin. 

At this moment, I began to feel unsure and pretty awkward. I didn't even notice AJ was present until I felt a firm grasp on my left shoulder. 

"See?" AJ started, 

"Told you Lauren was bring a friend,"

I nodded, I never doubted him. 

"A /boy/ friend....." AJ slurred, obviously hinting at something. 

I gasped at little, thinking I caught on to what he was referencing at. Did he want Frankie and I to become something? Like a couple? It wouldn't surprise me. 

AJ always has bugged me about being single, and he won't drop that time I brought a fruity male back from a art show and sucked him off on the couch. 

Frankies chuckled filled my ears, and it was so warming to hear. Frankie's voice, or any sounds he makes, calmed me. He had a feminine tone to him, and I was really expecting him too. 

"Come on! Sit down Zach! You seem like a bump on a log!" Lauren boomed.

"Ha....." 

I sat on a leather chair, the smell of battered pop corn came back to me, and I noticed the AJ held a large bucket. 

"What's with the popcorn?"

Shockingly, Frankie answered me. 

"Lauren and AJ were watching a movie before you arrived." 

"Were you not watching it with them?" 

"No, been waiting for you arrive actually. Been told a lot about you from AJ. Plus, I've seen pictures of you. You looked attractive, and now that your in my real life vision, you certainly are quite nice to look at."

Did he really just compliment me? This angel boy that's obviously high maintenance and spoiled, likes me? I'm a crumb, I'm dirty and a stupid stained artist boy. But, we do have one thing in common. We both like boys. He's a boy, I'm a boy. Boy boy boy boy boy. 

I didn't know what to say back, though, so I stumbled.

"Right back at you." 

"You have a really cute name," I stuttered.   
"And a really cute face."

Did I just say that? 

Frankie giggled and he playfully shoved me in the chest, 

"Oh shut up, you hopeless romantic!"

Frankie had a slight brush rise to his cheeks. He had a nice set of cheek bones, by the way. 

"Well," I started, pointing at his cheeks,  
"You obviously liked me saying it."

"Because I know I'm pretty."

"You're more then pretty, your-"

"Well, well, WELL!" AJ's voice echoed.

"Lauren, you owe me. I told you they'd fall head over heels for each other. No kissing the first meet up you two." 

"AJ, are you serious?" Frankie started,

"Serious about what? That you like Zach?" 

"I'm not going to lie about not liking him."

"Fran-" 

"Shut up," Frankie was chuckling. 

"Anyways, AJ, I would gladly appreciate it if you go back to smooching all over Lauren. Stop trying to hide your twos relationship, maybe..." 

AJ just stood, opening his mouth but quickly shutting it. 

But wait, was my paranoid self really correct? are AJ & Lauren actually dating and I didn't know. Oh.

"Alright... you bitch you...."

Frankie just smirked, watching as AJ went back to the bedroom were Lauren most likely was(how would I know?i haven't been watching her every step ya know?) 

"You owe me Lauren!" I overhear AJ say, then I hear echoing laughter.

"They're stupid... like two lovestruck teenagers I swear.." Frankie said, pulling strings that are lose from a pillow. 

"Yes, they are. Are they really together?"

Frankie shrugged. Then looked up from the pillow he was slowly beginning to torment and disfigure. He has large brown eyes. Like, really big. They're like a cartoon. I love large eyes, and Frankie's have a really calming nature to them. I love brown eyes, his are like sparkling chocolate-horrible reference, I know-. He's just so gorgeous. 

His nose is a bit weird. I question myself if he's had work done on it. His lips are pink, obviously coated with some lip gloss. 

"Stop checking me out."

"I'm no-"

"Shut up, yes you were Zachary. Did you even hear what I said?"

Shit.

"FUCK! No, I didn't. Sorry, I do this weird thing where my mind jumbles and I daze off and it's just really weird an-"

Frankie's finger is pressed against my stuttering lips. 

"Shh, stop there. It's fine. We all have our moments." 

"You probably got distracted by my good looks.." He purrs in a sing-song voice.   
I don't bother to argue with him so I just agree. It's not like he's lying or anything...  
"Hey.. You aren't wrong."

Frankie smirks at me once again. He smirks a lot. 

"So, Zach,"  
"What do you do for living?"

Uhhhhh... Damn. Will he judge me if I say I'm a lame low pay artist? He's obviously a big deal, he looks so fancy and higher then average. Fuck, he can't know I have a low life. He can't know I work in a run down cafe with a creepy boss that totally wants me in his pants.

"Come on baby, spit it out"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I progressed their relationship too quickly. I didn't look over this. I will later. It's almost 6, I'm passing out. Please comment!!!! Pleaseeee, if you do you're automatically a better person!   
> -xoxo, madz.


End file.
